


Borrowed Moments

by Emgl27



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Album: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Canon Compliant, M/M, No Smut, Post-Break Up, Self-Reflection, Song: Habit (Louis Tomlinson), Song: Too Young (Louis Tomlinson)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emgl27/pseuds/Emgl27
Summary: Louis reflects back to their past and tries to make sense of their present.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 41





	Borrowed Moments

**Author's Note:**

> hiii! so this was my first time writing anything so I'm a bit nervous ahah. it's not really a story, i just wanted to paint this scene that was going on in my head and put it into words so... here it is ahah  
> it was inspired by the songs I've put in the tags and also by end of summer sadness.  
> thank you to Mel for the help! <3  
> my Tumblr is @essercipertuttienonperse ! <3

The glass windows facing the back patio are all open, allowing the chill breeze of September to gently sway the white curtains , the sunset light is painting the room with hues of blue and orange. There’s a fading beam of sunlight trailing over Harry’s sleeping face, his quiet snoring is blowing one of his longest curls back and forth, Louis gently tucks it behind his ear, weirdly comforted by seeing that Harry’s old habit of sleeping with his mouth open has never really gone away.

With Harry’s grounding weight on his chest, Louis lets his mind wander to the times when all this was only his to see, only his to know, when he used to have this every night. It is true that back then they probably wouldn’t have been able to have a weekend for themselves like the one that’s just ending, but nostalgia has a way of tinting everything in sweeter tones and softer edges.

Maybe that’s what has made them so addicted to these moments, to this Thing that they’ve been doing for a while. His friends keep calling it “exes with benefits” but that doesn’t really fit right. For starters, they’ve never really broken up, not with words at least. One night, after yet another fight about both everything and nothing in particular, Harry looked at him like he often does, like he’s waiting for Louis to show him something, to say the magic words that will fix everything, looking at Louis like he has all the answers, the power to heal them. Louis used to love that look, it made him feel like he could do anything; but that was before, that was when the questions were easy and the problems fixable. He doesn’t like that look now, hates that he doesn’t know what Harry wants him to say anymore, hates that he has no way of knowing that, hates problems that he has no way of solving; he never liked feeling powerless and not in control. Because that’s what this is, there’s no specific argument to work through, no hard circumstances to navigate, not this time; no, this time the problem was that trying to keep what they had afloat became harder than letting it sink, letting the numbing cold water drown it became the more gentle option to the harsh winds that blew over the surface. Maybe they just got tired, jaded, disillusioned. Maybe it’s because without the sun, the sky became too similar to the water, the air became as hard to breathe as the salty water of the sea.

And now, after all this, why did they end up here again, curled around each other in this too small couch? They ended up here, like they always do, because Louis’ painfully frenetic heartbeat still settles only when his arms are around Harry, because that light in Harry’s eyes still only appears when he’s home. Louis sometimes thinks, and maybe fears, that there will never be anything that can compare to the completeness he and Harry find in each other. Being apart doesn’t hurt as acutely as it used to, probably because with the years the stretches started to last longer, two weeks, two months, a year... But every time, it still feels like something is missing, the ghostly pain of a missing limb that is not there anymore, something that’s not supposed to hurt but somehow still does.  
When your life gets this intertwined with someone else’s there are no clean cuts; the lines blur and you forget where one ends and the other begins; trying to pull away leaves you wondering if you even remember who you are without the other person, which parts were yours and which parts were borrowed.

They don’t let themselves do this often; it’s better not to fall into old habits, the busy lives that they leave all this for are still there, happening right outside of this precarious bubble, never stopping. Harry’s going to leave London soon and who knows how long it’ll be until they find each other again. Still, sometimes, like this past few days, when they are in the same city and free, they let themselves linger in this bittersweet limbo, the fine line between what was and what could have been, between what is and what could be. In these moments, it’s like everything falls into place again, like their souls can finally rest, it’s a kind of peace, of clarity, of wholeness that only being together brings.


End file.
